If There Is Time Enough
by kissinginthebluedark
Summary: Life is made up of millions of little moments.  But some moments stand out much more than others.  A series of Klaine one-shots. Chapter 6: The Last Time
1. The First Time

**1.1 The First Time**

"I take it you're having trouble at school…"

Kurt was never really good at asking for help. Not explicitly, anyways. He never uttered the phrase, "I can't do this on my own." His pride wouldn't allow it. He was a Hummel, dammit, and no one pushed the Hummels around.

But good god, surely _someone _would have noticed by now.

Was he really supposed to believe that everyone at McKinley magically turned deaf when Azimio and his goons screamed _"Fag!" _down the halls? Or that everyone just happened to look the other way when Karofsky shoved him face first into the lockers? Or maybe everyone thought that Kurt enjoyed the daily dumpster dives, and that's why they refused to say anything.

Sure, his friends in New Directions could commiserate to an extent. After all, they had endured the humiliation with him. They had an inkling of what he was going through. However, there was one huge difference between them: at any point, _they_ could quit the glee club—though he prayed they never would—and _their_ lives would go back to normal. No more name-calling. No more slushies. Just… _normal._

But Kurt… he could never be _"normal."_

His blue eyes met hazel as he quietly admitted, "I'm the… only person out of the closet at my school…"

It's not like he could just quit being gay.

Even through all of the insults, all of the physical abuse, he had still been proud of who he was. He had never tried to change himself (well, except for that whole Mellancamp phase—and to be fair, that wasn't meant to appease anyone but his own father). He was proud. He was confident. He was strong. He just _was._

But that didn't always make it easier. If anything, it made him a bigger target.

He just wanted to scream at them. To tell them that they were wrong. But every time he tried, he froze.

He would have thought by now that someone would have the decency to stick up for him. Someone. Anyone.

"And nobody seems to notice," he admitted softly.

Kurt's pride screamed at him to be quiet. Why would this kid who he only met a few days ago be interested in his life at all? It wasn't his problem. He was probably just being polite before he brushed him off and left him to fend for himself.

"I know how you feel."

Bile rose in Kurt's throat as he tried desperately to hold back the tears threatening to transform into body-aching sobs. His eyes focused on the ceiling briefly, before concentrating back on the boy in front of him.

"I got taunted at my old school and it really… _pissed _me off. I even complained about it to the faculty, and they were sympathetic, and all, but you could just tell that, nobody… really _cared. _It was like, 'Hey, if you're gay, you're life's just gonna be miserable. Sorry. Nothing we can do about it.'"

Kurt's grip on his coffee tightened.

He knew.

He _knew._

For once, Kurt was having a genuine conversation who knew _exactly _what he was going through.

And while there was a small warning voice screaming in his head that this person was the enemy, that voice was losing strength, because for once, glee club didn't matter that much anymore.

"So I left. I came here. Simple as that."

Kurt deflated. That was it. There was no hope for him, unless he abandoned everyone in New Directions and came to this school.

The prospect seemed less than ideal.

Blaine continued when Kurt kept quiet. "So you have two options. I mean, I'd love to just tell you to come enroll here, but tuition at Dalton is kinda steep…"

_Yeah, not really an option for me._

So what was the second choice?

"Or… you can refuse to be the victim."

Kurt blinked. He had never thought of that being an option before. Sure, he was confident in who he was, and he was proud, but he never kidded himself into thinking that he could go toe to toe with one of his tormentors.

"Prejudice is just ignorance, Kurt, and you have a chance right now to teach him."

Kurt's eyes bored into Blaine's, begging for more advice. Eventually, he voiced the only word ringing in his ears.

"How?"

_"Confront _him. Call him out." Blaine was getting worked up; Kurt knew what he wanted him to do. Maybe he couldn't throw Azimio or Karofsky into the lockers, but damn, he could fire back verbally quicker than the both of them combined.

"I _ran, _Kurt. I didn't stand up. I let the bullies chase me away, and it is something I really, _really _regret."

Kurt could tell. Blaine almost couldn't keep eye contact with him, he seemed to regret it so much.

Blaine sat back, relaxing his shoulders that had been so tense just moments ago. "That's just me, though. I can't tell you how to live your life. But maybe… maybe you can learn from the mistakes that I've made."

Kurt nodded, dumbly bringing his coffee cup to his lips. He swallowed thickly before meeting Blaine's eyes again. "Thank you," he supplied quietly. "For the first time… I feel like someone's actually _listening _to me."

Blaine smiled.

_Did my stomach actually just do a back flip?_

The nervous smile that he returned confirmed his suspicions.

"Well, I glad I can be of some help. I remember my old school, how hard it was to go through it alone…" Blaine furrowed his brow as he pulled out his phone. "What's your phone number, Kurt?"

Kurt almost choked on the last sip of coffee he had left. Blaine chuckled. "I just figure that if you need to talk again, it'll be easier to just call or text, rather than trying to hunt you down two hours away."

Kurt smiled again nervously before they exchanged numbers. Kurt sighed, looking at the new contact in his phone, a feeling of relief rising in his chest. "I just… I don't know what to say." He looked at Blaine again. "Thank you. Again."

Blaine leaned over the table and placed a hand on Kurt's shoulder. "Really, Kurt, it's not a problem. Anything I can do to help, I'm glad to do it."

Kurt smirked. "I'm going to hold you to that."

"I expect you to."

They sat there for a few more moments, talking lightly about the weather, school (but staying away from the topic of glee club), before Blaine mentioned that he had Warblers rehearsal soon and he had to get going. He offered to walk Kurt to his car—an offer that normally Kurt would have refused… but truth be told, he didn't want to leave just yet, and he would take every moment he could get with his new friend.

Blaine saw Kurt to the parking lot. "I think I can handle myself from here," Kurt supplied, not wanting to come across as completely helpless.

"It's been a pleasure getting to know you, Kurt," Blaine said as he stuck his hand out for Kurt to shake.

"Ditto," Kurt replied. His smile faded, only slightly, as he searched for the right words to end with. Blaine beat him to it.

"If you say 'thank you' one more time, I'm going to take my number back," he said through a smirk.

Kurt chuckled. "Well, fine then. I guess I'll just leave you with a, 'talk to you later,' then."

"I'll take that." His eyes grew serious. "And I mean it – call me if you need anything."

"I will." He let go of Blaine's hand and started backing away towards his car. "I'll see you around!"

"You better!" Blaine called back. He didn't go back inside until he saw Kurt get in the car and actually pull out of the parking lot.

The two hour drive back to Lima was so much easier than the same drive he made earlier that day. Because for the first time in a long time, Kurt had something that had been forgotten long ago.

For the first time, Kurt had hope.

* * *

**Author's Note**

Why hello, Fanfiction. It's been a while.

So this is my first Glee fic, and my first fic on here in like... four years? So please, be gentle. I'm getting back into the swing of writing again, and trying to get a grasp on the characters is a lot tougher than I thought it would be. I apologize if this was a bit on the boring side; I promise it will get better. This story is going to be a series of 24 one-shots, focused on Kurt, heavy emphasis on Klaine (although I have a few chapters concerning Kurt's relationship with Karofsky - NOT Kurtofsky... I don't ship those two). I found a table on LJ called the "24 Time Table," and it prompted a few ideas in my head, which I fleshed out into 24 different ideas. It was serious business, yo. There were highlighters involved.

Long story short, I am starting with Kurt and Blaine meeting, so the first few chapters are going to seem somewhat repetitive - scenes from the show told from another point of view. But things will take on a life of their own once I get past the first few chapters. Like I said, it's really just trying to get a good handle on who I'm writing about here.

A few thank yous are in order. First off, a big thanks to **Keitorin Asthore, **who inspired me to write my own fanfiction by writing hers (and allowing me to collaborate with her on one of her best pieces, _Knife Going In_). She's one of my best friends and I would not be writing if she wasn't. Another big thanks goes to **I Spiked the Ice Cream****, **who is my sister and is so freakin' excited about this story - it makes me wanna write more RIGHT NOW. And finally, to **aspiringtoeloquence,** whose story _Truth, Love, and Evolution _has definitely been inspiring me to write some wonderful Klaine of my own, and who has been encouraging me to get my ideas out there.

And thank you, of course, for reading. The prompt for the next chapter: _Time stops._


	2. Time Stops

**2.8 Time Stops**

Kurt knew how first kisses were supposed to go.

This was _definitely _not right.

Chick flicks were Kurt's guilty pleasure. He had seen so many by now, he knew the predictable plots inside and out. It was a source of comfort, to know that even the most dysfunctional couples could work things out, overcome the odds, and get their happily ever after. If they could do it, why couldn't he?

However, the one part that Kurt loved the most about those flicks was that first kiss. The tension leading up to it, the way their lips moved together in perfect synchronization, and yet the awkwardness about it that made it so exciting… it all resulted in that perfect moment.

He had always hoped that one day, he would have that moment, and claim it for his own.

Now, it seemed like the exact opposite was happening.

As his lips pressed unwillingly against his assailant's, he couldn't help but replay the last few minutes that led up to this moment in his mind. One minute, he was reading the text on his phone – "Courage. -Blaine" – and getting lost in the conversation he'd had the other day with the boy. The next minute, his phone was gone, and he was thrown against the lockers for the second time that day, and who knew how many times it had been in that week.

For a moment, Kurt stood there, stunned, as his eyes met Karofsky's. The smug stare of his face said it all as his eyes bore down on Kurt, eventually turning and walking towards the locker rooms. Kurt's eyes scanned the hallway, looking to see if anyone had noticed.

No one did.

No surprise there.

The fleeting thought of just walking away, ignoring the situation, crossed his mind. But he _had _been ignoring it, and that seemed to work out for just about everyone else _but _him. The resolve – the _need _– to stand up to Karofsky soon welled up inside his chest, and instead of feeling nothing, he felt angry. In fact, he was _furious._ With Blaine's words replaying in his head, Kurt chased after Karofsky, his phone and fear forgotten behind.

Kurt burst through the locker room doors. _"I am talking to you!"_

Karofsky did not even spare him a passing glance as he continued to unload his locker. "The girl's locker room is next door," he said calmly.

His calm demeanor was only fueling Kurt's anger. The voice inside him said that meant that Karofsky was winning, but he didn't care. He was going to unleash his own version of The Fury on the bully. "What is your problem?" he cried as he walked over to Karofsky. He would be damned if that jackass didn't look him in the eyes while he was yelling at him…

"Excuse me?" Karofsky replied simply, finally acknowledging Kurt's presence.

"What are you so scared of?"

"'Sides you sneakin' in here to peek at my junk?"

Kurt wanted to punch him in the face. He really did. But instead he focused all of his energy into screaming at him more. "Oh, yeah, every straight guy's worst nightmare, that all of us gays are secretly out to molest and convert you," he spilled out, gesturing with his hands how absurd this idea was. Why did being gay automatically make you a pervert as well?

Karofsky went back to emptying his locker, and Kurt continued. "Well, guess what, hamhock? You're not my type."

Kurt was bolder than he ever had been before. And he was not going to back down now.

Karofsky stopped, his brow furrowing. "That right?"

"Yeah," Kurt bit back. "I don't dig on chubby boys who sweat too much and are gonna be bald by the time they're thirty."

_Oh wow. That was harsh. Even for me._

Not that he was feeling particularly bad about it. In fact, it felt pretty damn good.

Karofsky was getting worked up now. "Do not push me, Hummel," he replied, soft but dangerous. His hand formed a fist as he brought it up only inches away from Kurt's face.

Kurt glanced at Karofsky's fist before returning his gaze back to the bully before him. "You gonna hit me? Do it," he dared softly.

Karofsky slammed his locker shut, and Kurt almost jumped in surprise. But he was not backing down now. Even if it did mean that he was going to walk away with a black eye. "Don't push me," Karofsky repeated, his voice rising.

"Hit me cuz it's not gonna change who I am," Kurt replied quickly. He couldn't believe the words coming from his mouth. But he didn't try to stop them. "You can't punch the gay outta me any more than I can punch the ignoramus out of you!"

"Man, get outta my face!" Karofsky was screaming now, and Kurt felt particularly proud of himself for causing the meltdown he was witnessing.

And then Kurt raised his voice to match Karofsky's, screaming exactly what he has been dying to say all along.

_"You are nothing but a scared like boy who can't handle how extraordinarily ordinary you are!"_

It was, by far, the best comeback Kurt had ever come up with.

Well, maybe that rendering plant comment a few days ago was pretty good. But this one was definitely better.

But Kurt never got to celebrate his new found courage and wit, because at that very moment, Karofsky grabbed Kurt's face and pressed his lips fervently against his.

Kurt froze. He didn't know what to do. Hands trapped between their chests, he only wanted to push Karofsky away as hard as he could and start running in the other direction.

Kurt knew that first kisses were supposed to stop time.

Well, time had definitely stopped. But this time, for all the wrong reasons.

Kurt stayed stock still as Karofsky's calloused hands massaged Kurt's face, trying to bring him deeper into the kiss. He kept his mouth closed, waiting for the nightmarish moment to finally end. When it finally did, Karofsky pulled away from Kurt's mouth with what sounded as a whimper – a sound completely disconcerting and nauseating in itself.

Kurt's mouth finally opened in an expression of abject horror as Karofsky's fingers trailed down his face and came to rest gently on his neck. For once in his life, he had no words. Karofsky grabbed for Kurt's shoulders and drew him in for a second kiss, but Kurt was not about to relive that nightmare again. He placed his hands firmly on Karofsky's chest and shoved him so hard that even he had to take a few steps back. He quickly brought his hand to his mouth and crossed his other arm over his torso, trying to protect himself further. If Karofsky came at him again, he wasn't sure if he would be able to fight him off. The shock hadn't exactly worn off yet.

Karofsky's face crumpled in the realization that he was being rejected. He slammed both hands into the lockers (this time, Kurt did jump), and gave a frustrated cross between a grunt and a moan before storming out of the locker room. Kurt simply stood there, hand over his mouth, still not believing what had just taken place. His body sagged against the lockers, and soon he found himself sitting on the floor of the dirty room, legs tucked up under him, head resting on his knees.

How was he supposed to face Karofsky now?

He wasn't homophobic. He was… in the closet.

This definitely made things more complicated.

And now his first kiss had been taken against his will. The one thing he thought was his, to save for that first someone that he truly loved… _stolen._

Kurt couldn't think straight. A million thoughts were running through his mind, colliding at light speed, and he couldn't seem to hold on to anything.

But one thought in particular stopped everything.

_Blaine._

He hated using his new friend like a crutch. But right now, there was no way he could stand on his own.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

OHMAHGAH, guys. Transcribing scenes is some serious schtuff. I think I watched this scene twenty times trying to get it right.

I feel a lot better about this chapter than the last. I think I'm getting a handle on Kurt's character more, and I got to have a little bit of fun with Karofsky as well (well, not really fun. But I got introduced to writing him, so that's _kinda_ fun...).

I know this is the second day in a row that I've posted, but don't get used to me updating on a daily basis. I've had the motivation and time to actually crank out two chapters in two days, but I know that the next few days will be different, with it being Christmas and me working double shifts tomorrow. Thank goodness I have Christmas Eve off. Maybe if I'm not busy being a little elf around the house (ie, baking cookies, wrapping presents, and watching Christmas movies) I'll have a bit of time to get another chapter up.

Man, I forgot how much I love writing fanfiction. This is such a nice surprise. Again, I'm gonna thank **Keitorin Asthore, I Spike the Ice Cream, **and **aspiringtoeloquence** for inspiring me to write this.

And finally, THANK YOU ALL WHO REVIEW AND/OR SUBSCRIBE! I can't tell you how surprised I was yesterday to open my email and have close to 20 emails from , all saying how someone reviewed or subscribed! So thank you! Your kind words and alerts keep me going!


	3. The Best Time

**3.2 The Best Time**

Rachel Berry had been told numerous times (by various people) that she really needed to lighten up.

"Girl, you really oughta relax," Mercedes had said after a particularly high-strung rehearsal.

"You have to loosen up," she recalled Puck telling her during their brief stint of dating a year ago. She also remembered him quickly following this statement with that trademark eyebrow wiggle and a "Let me show you how," before he stuck his tongue down her throat.

And she had certainly not missed the many times that Santana had mumbled something to Brittany about how _badly _Rachel needed to get laid – the sooner, the better.

But Rachel had paid them all no heed. She really was not that bad. She could easily relax and have fun when she wanted to – Finn could vouch for that. He could tell them all how much fun they had together while watching old musicals and putting together puzzles.

Well, _she _had fun. Finn would stay very quiet during those nights, but he never complained. So, he had to be having fun too, right?

… Right?

Rachel knew how to have fun. But one thing she refused to do was to "lighten up" when it came to glee club. Glee was her gateway into the world on the stage. She _had _to take it seriously. If she slacked off in the glee club, she would lose her competitive edge. And if she lost her competitive edge, then they would fail miserably at sectionals, and the glee club would be over. And if the glee club was disbanded, then her talent would go wasted and she would never get into Julliard. And if she never even made it into Julliard, then there was no way in hell she would make it to Broadway. She would end up working at the 7-Eleven down the street, stuck in Lima, Ohio for the rest of her life.

And then, she would die. Because, like she told Finn before, Rachel Berry needed applause to _live_.

Rachel headed toward the auditorium, nothing popping her bubble of determination. She could not let herself be resigned to such a horrible fate, which is why she had already put together the perfect setlist for sectionals. She was _sure _that everyone would love it - _Love _being the theme that tied all of the songs together. The duet – "Two Is Better Than One" by Boys Like Girls – would obviously go to her and Finn. They _were_ the strongest vocalists they had. Then they would move into a ballad ("I Will Always Love You" by Whitney Houtson), which again she would lead (though she would make sure to give some notes to Mercedes… that girl would pitch a fit if she did not get a few notes to herself). And the entire set would end with the big group number, "What I Like About You," not unlike the version of "Don't Stop Believin'" they did at regionals. Her arrangement was brilliant. Mr. Schue would thank her repeatedly, and the entire club would stand and applaud, marveling at her genius. Her setlist would send them soaring onto sectionals.

She clutched her music book to her chest, her pace quickening as the doors to the auditorium were now in sight. Of course, she would have to rehearse the songs until she knew the arrangements inside and out before she could present them to the club. Poorly executed plans were worse than badly conceived ones, and for her setlist to be approved, she had to make sure that everyone was on the same page. She reached the double doors and threw them open, charging down the aisle toward the stage, resolute to waste no time.

But as she got halfway down the aisle, she quickly realized that she was not alone in the large room. Someone was already on the stage, playing piano, and singing lyrically (though at the top of his lungs).

His voice was recognized in a heartbeat. Rachel stood there for a moment looking at the stage where Kurt sat at the piano, his fingers dancing lightly over the ivory keys, his voice matching the dulcet tones of the instrument. His eyes were closed; he had obviously memorized the song by now, he had played it over so many times before. Rachel furrowed her brow as she listened to the lyrics.

_"So glide away on soapy heels / And promise not to promise anymore / And if you come around again / Then I will take / The chain from off the door…"_

Of course Rachel recognized the song right away. Tina had been on an Indie music fix for a while now, and she had introduced the entire club to Ingrid Michaelson. Rachel thought her voice was pretty, but not attention-grabbing enough for her own voice.

Kurt continued playing, concentrating solely on the music springing from his fingers and voice. And suddenly, Rachel felt awkward. She thought by now she should have spoken up, but for some reason, she felt particularly speechless. Maybe it was because Kurt was so enraptured in what he was doing she felt like she was intruding on a very intimate moment. Or maybe she didn't say because she knew that she wouldn't want to be interrupted if it were her.

_"I'll never say / I'll never love / But I don't say a lot of things / And you, my love, are gone…"_

Rachel's brow furrowed as Kurt poured every emotion he had into the second verse. She had never seen Kurt so open, so vulnerable, so… _real._

And then she felt like she _really _shouldn't be there. This was intruding. Kurt needed this time by himself.

But just as Rachel came to this realization, Kurt's eyes shot open and his hands fumbled over the keys. His eyes swept the room quickly coming to rest on Rachel, and an affronted look plastered itself on his features.

Rachel mentally kicked herself. As Kurt had proceeded into the chorus for the second time, she had unconsciously joined in, repeating the verse after him in a round like she had originally heard on the CD. Obviously, Kurt had noticed the extra voice and was more than startled to see another person in the room. She cursed her innate need to add her voice to every piece of music that graced her ears.

Kurt made the move to close his music book (which had been lying open on the piano, even though he obviously hadn't been using it) and scooted to the end of the bench to grad his bag and leave. "Wait!" Rachel cried, jogging down the aisle to meet Kurt at the steps to the stage. "You don't have to leave on account of me!"

"It's okay, Rachel," Kurt replied shortly, and she knew instantly that it was not okay. "I was just on my way out anyways."

She frowned, noticing how the passion and spark that had been in his eyes only moments before was eerily gone, without any traces left behind. She kicked herself mentally again, knowing she had been the cause of that. "You were not," she rebutted, standing in his way on the steps. "You were in the middle of a song."

He shrugged noncommittally. "It wasn't important."

"You don't have to lie to me, Kurt," she said softly. He started, her honesty surprising him. "I can tell that song meant a lot to you."

"Oh, you can, can you?" he asked her, his tone laced with annoyance.

"Yes, I can," she persisted. "I know you, and I know when it comes to your music, you are a lot like me."

Kurt's eyes widened as he cocked an eyebrow, a look that clearly said, "You really wanna go there?" She rolled her eyes and continued, "Granted, you may not be as…" she paused, trying to find the right word.

"Neurotic?" Kurt chimed in, trying to (sarcastically) help. "Obsessively compulsive? High-strung? Overly controlling?"

Rachel pursed her lips. "I was thinking 'ambitious,' but poor word choice aside, I know we both find comfort in our music." Her expression softened a bit and she looked down at her feet. "I know I always turn to a good ballad when I'm feeling down, or if I'm particularly happy then I can't help but belt along to a dance tune." She met his eyes again. "And seeing you just now… I know that wasn't just _any _song. It _meant _something to you. I haven't seen you sing with that kind of passion since... well, since your dad was in the hospital."

This time it was Kurt who looked at the floor. He gave a crooked smile, still staring at his feet. "You're more intuitive than I give you credit for, Rachel."

Rachel put her hands on her hips. "I don't know whether I should be grateful or offended."

"Probably both."

They both laughed lightly before Kurt gave a sigh and turned back to the stage. "I guess it wouldn't hurt for me to finish the song I was on."

"Or, you know, even sing a few more, if that's what makes you happy," Rachel supplied, following him.

Kurt furrowed his brow. "Didn't you need the auditorium for something?"

Rachel shrugged. "It's… not important."

He rolled his eyes. "_Please. _You came all the way to the auditorium to sing something, and now you try to tell me that it wasn't important?" He smirked. "If you know so much about me, then it's only fair game that I know you just as well."

She tossed her music book aside. "Really, it can wait. I was just going to go over a few ideas for sectionals."

Kurt eyed the book she had discarded. "Anything I can help with?"

"Uh, I'd rather not. I have a lot of arranging to do before you guys get to see it." She walked over to him and motioned for him to scoot so she could sit on the piano bench with him. His placed his fingers over the keys and began to play, the familiar tune filling the room once again.

"Why did you pick this song to sing?" Rachel asked before she could stop the words from spilling out of her mouth.

Kurt's fingers still played, but his expression faltered. "It's a pretty song. And it fits perfectly in my vocal range." He shrugged. "I just thought it would be a good exercise."

"You're lying to me again," she stated matter-of-factly. "Seriously, Kurt, you're a terrible liar. Your face gives it away completely. What's wrong?"

He stopped and looked to her. "Did you stick around here to sing with me, or just interrogate me to no end? Because if your answer is the latter, you might as well just leave now."

Rachel swallowed and looked at her hands folded neatly in her lap. "I just… I wanted…"

"Spit it out, Rachel."

"You know you can come to us if anything is wrong, right?" Her voice was incredibly quiet. She was not used to talking so low. "All of us, in New Directions… we love you, Kurt. We… we all just want what's best for you."

She looked up from her hands to Kurt's face, and was startled to see tears forming in his eyes. His lips, pressed in a thin line, were trembling, and blood was slowly creeping into his cheeks, making his face red and splotchy. "I know," he began, trying to control the tremors in his voice, "I know that you all are my friends. And I know that I can count on New Directions for anything. But…" he paused as a few tears fell down his cheeks. "But there are some battles that I just have to face alone."

Rachel wanted nothing more than to throw her arms around Kurt's neck and give him the biggest hug she could. She wanted him to cry into her shoulder and tell her everything, and she could listen and pat his head and tell him that everything would be okay.

But seeing him now, trying so hard to keep everything together, to stay strong on his own, she knew that was not what he needed. So she simply stayed quiet, placing a reassuring hand on his back.

He laughed hollowly and wiped at his eyes before turning to her, and for a moment she could see the glimmer that she saw when she first walked in the room. "You're a friend, Rachel. And right now, what I need in a friend… is someone to sing with me. To distract me." The faint smile on his lips grew. "Would you please sing with me? I feel like I need at least one more voice to truly do this song justice."

She mirrored his smile. "It would be my honor."

And again, Kurt began to play. Rachel watched as his body swayed to the music, his voice carrying throughout the auditorium and reverberating off the walls back to them.

_"The sky looks pissed / The wind talks back / My bones are shifting in my skin / And you, my love, are gone…" _

Rachel joined in on the last line of each verse, singing the soprano harmony, and making sure to keep her voice much lighter than Kurt's (the harmony is never supposed to drown out the main melody). She watched him lose himself in the melody once more, a sad smile coming to his face as he sang.

_"So glide away on soapy heels / and promise not to promise anymore / and if you come around again / then I will take the chain from off the door…"_

She joined in with him, creating a round where their voices mixed and mingled, not unlike the duet they had done a few weeks ago. And she continued to watch him, because she knew that Kurt was at his best when he was lost in the music.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

Woooooo. That one was a doozy to write. Keitorin has always told me that Rachel was a difficult one to write, but I never really understood it until I went through three different drafts of this chapter before finally being satisfied with this one. I wasn't originally planning to write it from Rachel's POV, but I thought it would be more effective, and I don't plan to write everything from Kurt's POV anyways. Yeah, this story will be _about _him, but not always from his perspective. I think that will keep it interesting enough.

I hope my stab at humor at the beginning of this chapter wasn't too lame. Sometimes writing humor comes easily to me, and other times not. So some feedback on that would be awesome.

I don't know when I will be getting the next chapter out. I mean, it will probably be within the next few days - my week is surprisingly open, so I've got plenty of time to write - but I don't even know how to start the next chapter. Also, I have to start collaborating with Keitorin on the second half of _Knife Going In, _which is going to require some hardcore law research on my part. Anyways, I will definitely be busy with writing this week, just don't know when then next chapter will be up.

Thank you all so much for reading! I hope you had a very Merry Christmas, and have a wonderful New Year. Prompt for the next chapter: _Remember the good times._


	4. Remember the Good Times

I just realized that I haven't put a disclaimer anywhere on the last three chapters of this.

But really, if I owned Glee, would I really be writing fanfiction on it?

… FINE.

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. (Booyouwhore.)

* * *

**4.10 Remember the Good Times**

_These are a few of my favorite things…_

Kurt repeated the familiar tune in his head as he locked his car and gripped his saddle bag tightly. It felt cheesy, but the song had become his mantra for his morning walk into school. _The Sound of Music _had been a favorite of his since he was little; he used to watch it with his mother all the time when he was sick. Now he used the music to comfort himself when he felt sick to his stomach – mainly, on days like today.

He had overslept this morning (_never _a good way to start the day), and because of his obsessive need to always be fashion forward, his morning routine had not been shaved short. Instead, his arrival time to McKinley had been much later than normal, and he had to park towards the back of the lot. Usually, he tried to get there early in order to bypass the dumpster and avoid the jocks. But today he knew they would be there. He knew he would have to pass by them to make it to the front doors.

And more than likely, they would be waiting for him.

Kurt swallowed thickly and kept his head down. While he wasn't a coward, he really did not feel like being thrown into the trash today. And the best way to stay out of that situation was to avoid it.

He had passed the dumpster by now, and for a second he thought he was home free. But he also knew that karma was rarely on his side, and right as he was about to walk through the front doors, he ran straight into Azimio and Andrews.

"Morning, _homo,"_ Azimio began, stopping him in his tracks.

Kurt closed his eyes, trying to keep his cool. "You do realize," he began, turning on them, "that when you call me 'homo,' you're just calling me a person? We are all _homo_sapiens, after all, so despite your best efforts to insult me, you have fallen short of the mark."

He couldn't stop the smirk from creeping onto his lips as he watched a very confused Andrews try to follow his witty remark. The smirk quickly disappeared as Azimio barked back at him. "You trying to be smart with us, fairy?"

"Ooo, using a new nickname, I see," Kurt spat out. "Let me just tell you, it's going to take a lot more than that to get to me."

Azimio quickly closed the gap between them and grabbed Kurt by the lapels of his jacket. "Oh really? Well how's this for ya, _fag?"_

Kurt winced and scolded himself for showing weakness, but he couldn't help it. Even when that word came from someone that he couldn't care less about, it still felt like a knife in his chest.

It sucked even more when he realized that Azimio got some sick pleasure out of his pain. "That's more like it," he said quietly. "People like _you _belong in their place."

"People like me?" Kurt repeated, flabbergasted. "And what's that supposed to mean? People like me, who are – god forbid – different than you? People like me, who are _proud _of who they are?" His voice was steadily rising with his anger level. "People like me, who know they will always, _always _be a step above scum like you?"

For a second, he really thought that Azimio was going to punch him. His grip on his jacket tightened, and he brought Kurt closer to his face, snarling to come back with an insult of his own. But instead, his grip relaxed ever so slightly, and a sickening smirk twisted on his lips. He threw Kurt in Andrews's direction, who grabbed him by the scruff of his coat. "C'mon, Trent," he said to Andrews. "Dave is waiting for us by the dumpsters."

Kurt automatically tensed. Not only did he have to deal with Azimio and Andrews on a day like today, but he had to deal with Karofsky – the one guy whose bullying went a whole lot deeper than simple homophobia. He wanted to speak up, to say something, anything witty or biting, but he could only stay silent as the dumpster and Karofsky came into view.

Kurt closed his eyes, Andrews's hand on his back guiding the way, as his mind went to kinder places than his actual reality.

_These are a few of my favorite things…_

He was in the car with Mercedes. They were going shopping. They were on their way to a new boutique that had opened two towns away, and Kurt was _dying _to check it out. So the two best friends hopped into his Navigator and took off, the dynamic duo back in action.

They both argued for about five minutes over whose iPod they were going to listen to on the way there, until Mercedes came up with the truce that they would listen to her music on the way there, and then his music on the way back. Kurt agreed to this (even though he knew he would be speeding on the way there, and taking his own sweet time on the way back).

Mercedes plugged up her iPod and put it on shuffle. On the first few songs that played she sang along loudly, wailing and freestyling, making each note her own. Kurt listened quietly – a lot of the songs he had heard before, but didn't know well enough to chime in – and kept his eyes firmly on the road.

But when "London Bridge" came on by Fergie, he knew that he had to sing along.

As the song blared over the speakers, Mercedes began rapping along with Fergie, while Kurt chimed in rhythmically with the, "Oh snap!" after each lyric. Mercedes tried her best to simply sing her part, but with Kurt coming in an octave lower than his usual range, she couldn't help but break into a fit of giggles by the time the chorus rolled around.

Kurt smiled at the fond memory, but when he opened his eyes, his smile disappeared. Karofsky was much closer, and he was wearing a smirk similar to Azimio's. If he thought he felt sick before, it was nothing compared to how he was feeling now.

His gaze quickly fell to his feet, and he tried to think of more happy memories. _Anything but what's going to happen to you in the next few minutes…_

He thought back to last year. He was in the choir room, with all of New Directions. They had just won sectionals – he could the see the giant trophy in Mr. Schue's hands, and he was congratulating them on winning the competition fair and square. He had felt a particular sense of accomplishment that day; the odds had been completely against them, but they had triumphed. They had taken the high road, they preformed to the best of their abilities, and even when they had only had about half an hour of rehearsal time, they had _won._

He remembered Finn clasping Mr. Schue on the shoulder and sitting him down in a chair as they all took their places for the special number they had all prepared. And even though on that day Kurt didn't have any solos and he only sung back-up, he didn't care. That sense of victory and elation was too great to be overshadowed by… well, anything.

A rough hand clasped his own shoulder, and soon Kurt's eyes met dark brown eyes. He swallowed the choking noise that rose in his throat, but kept his stare defiant, boring into Karofsky's. "Hello, Kurt," he said softly. "Long time, no see."

He dropped his gaze and admonished himself for letting this guy get under his skin. He hated the way Karofsky said his name. From his lips, he'd much rather be called the worst name in the book. He didn't _deserve_ to say his name.

Kurt's eyes glanced over the letterman jacket in front of him and his lids closed once more.

He was on the football field, on the shoulders of his teammates. He had won the McKinley High Titans their first victory of the season (of many previous seasons, actually). Winning felt wonderful, but the real rush came when his father practically crushed him in a hug only a few moments later, screaming, "_This is my son!" _and then saying only to him, "I'm so _proud _of you."

Only a few hours later, he was in his bedroom, his stomach turning flips as he confessed to his father the secret he had been keeping for far too long.

"… What I am… is… I'm gay."

A long pause. Then, "I know."

And his father accepted him. Still loved him. And he crushed him in another hug that night. It was one memory he held onto with a vengeance; he knew so many kids like him wished they had parents as understanding as his.

Karofsky grabbed Kurt's shoulders and threw him against the side of the dumpster, grabbing his messenger bag and throwing it to the ground. Kurt winced as his head bounced against the steel wall like a basketball and his hand instinctively found its way to the knot forming there.

Azimio and Andrews laughed. "Aww, did the wittle homo hurt himself?" Azimio began in a mockingly childish voice.

Andrews laughed, nudging Azimio as Karofsky stood in front of Kurt, bracing his forearm against Kurt's collarbone. "I hope he doesn't expect us to kiss it and make it better," Andrews laughed.

Kurt surprised himself as the next words spilled from his lips, only loud enough for Karofsky to hear.

"Strangely enough, that's exactly what I'd expect from _you,_" he replied bitingly.

Karofsky's eyes widened in fear as he hastily pressed his forearm harder into Kurt's chest, and Kurt gasped for breath. He swallowed again and leaned his head back, staring at the sky, still trying to think happy thoughts… though it was becoming harder.

His thoughts drifted back to his father, and this time his mother too. This was a distant memory, but it was there. He was sitting in the theater, his mother on the right, and his dad on the left, watching the ballerinas flit across the stage gracefully. The evil rat king came out and threatened the prince, but Kurt relaxed as the heroine came to the defense of her beloved.

And Kurt remembered the happy bubble swelling up in his chest, and how in that moment he had decided his own destiny. He wanted to be on that stage. And he would do whatever it took to get there…

_"Hey! HEY! What the hell do you think you're doing?"_

Kurt was finally able to get a deep breath as Karofsky pulled his arm back and Kurt keeled over, breathing deeply, thanking his lucky stars for the voices that sounded distantly over the parking lot.

"Aw, shit," Andrews muttered. "It's Hudson and Puckerman…"

Azimio swore. "Well then, we'll just have to speed this up."

Kurt's stomach dropped as Azimio grabbed Kurt under the arms and Andrews quickly grabbed him by his ankles. He held back a gasp when Karofsky grabbed him around his hips; this was way too close for comfort. He shook his head and tried to remember something – _anything…_

He was in another theater, but this time his parents weren't there. And the theater was much smaller than the one he had seen _The Nutcracker_ in. This was a community theatre production of _Rent,_ and he was bumping elbows nervously with that wildly attractive Dalton boy.

Roger was singing his first full solo, and Kurt's insides performed complex acrobatics as he heard Blaine singing along softly.

"_One song, glory / One song, before I go / Glory, one song to leave behind…"_

Blaine turned to look at Kurt, and he didn't know what to do. This wasn't a duet, so he felt weird singing along with him. And what he _really _wanted to do wouldn't be appropriate for two friends to do on a casual night out. So he sat there, relishing in Blaine's tenor, a shy smile playing on his lips.

Kurt felt hands release him as he went flying through the air for just a second before he landed with a _whump!_ on top of the garbage bags. His brow furrowed in disgust as he felt something wet and sticky attach itself to his pants. That was _not _going to be an easy stain to get out.

As Finn and Puck yelled at the bullies outside the dumpster, Kurt's mind traveled to one more memory.

_"You can refuse to be the victim… Prejudice is just ignorance, Kurt."_

Kurt slowly sat up and got to his feet, his legs sinking deeper into the garbage. Blaine's words kept repeating in his mind, his new mantra, as his hands found the edge of the dumpster and he pulled himself out.

Finn and Puck were still yelling at Azimio and Karofsky, but Andrews had noticed Kurt's defiance and decided to take matters into his own hands. He moved past Finn and Puck and grabbed Kurt by his jacket, pushing him back up against the dumpster wall. Kurt sighed. "I'm getting really tired of people grabbing my designer coat like it's from WalMart."

"You belong in the trash," Andrews growled. "People like you—"

But Andrews never got to finish his thought. Kurt brought his own arms up and placed them on Andrews' chest and, letting out a frustrated yell, pushed Andrews away so hard that he tripped over his own two feet and fell flat on his back.

"People like me will _never _let people like you dictate who I am or who I should be!" Kurt screamed, surprising everyone. "People like me are _proud _of who they are, and if people like you can't handle that, well that's your own damn problem!"

He felt positively feral at this point, but he didn't care. He was tired of being bullied, tired of being the victim, and tired of pretending like it didn't bother him.

But at this point, he was also tired, _so _tired, of wasting his words on these Neanderthals. He grabbed his bag from off the ground and pushed past Azimio and Karofsky, leaving Andrews still on the ground. He turned around one last time, sharing a grateful glance with both Finn and Puck, before narrowing his eyes at the two bullies still standing.

"And by the way," he began quietly, "if you're planning to keep up this whole, 'putting me in my place routine,' you better think of better ways to do it," he challenged. "The same routine is getting boring. And besides, nothing you can do to me will make me regret who I am."

Azimio and Karofsky were speechless.

Kurt was more than pleased with himself.

So with that said, he turned on his heel and walked into school (even if his right leg was partially covered in something sticky and foul-smelling) with his head held high. He was sure that they'd be back, and to be truthful, he was still terrified of Karofsky in particular. But maybe he had stunned them enough to delay the torture, even just one more day.

And surely now this day – which had started out horribly – would be one of those memories that helped him get through the next time he had to face them.

_These are a few of my favorite things…_

_

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_

**Author's Note**

HOLY KNIGHTS OF COLUMBUS this took forever to write! I really thought I'd have this up before now, but surprisingly enough, having a lot of free time tends to… well, eat up my free time. Plus, I won't lie – this chapter was freakin' hard to write. Trying to get the memories in there without it being overwhelming, and then the ending was something entirely different than what I originally planned…

And I promise, there are going to be some humorous chapters that are more fun to read than these. I feel like, while these aren't the angstiest chapters here on FF, they are kinda depressing, and I feel bad for that being all I've written so far. But just stick with me. I have a plan, and things are looking up on the horizon.

I meant to say this last chapter, but if I ever refer to a song in these stories, I beg you to go onto YouTube and listen to it. I don't post full lyrics to a song within the chapters because I feel that it breaks up the rhythm and flow of the writing, but the songs usually help contribute to the mood set for the chapter.

Also, props to you if you noticed the reference to Keitorin's story, "Sugarplum Priorities." I also borrowed Trent Andrews from her, for the sake of having a bully that Kurt could probably handle better than Azimio or Karofsky.

And as always, thanks to my beta, **I Spiked the Ice Cream**, who is also my amazing sister. And (INSERT SHAMELESS PLUG HERE) she just posted a Klaine-y drabble titled "His Name." You should totally go read it. It's adorable.

Also also, for anyone who cares, Keitorin and I are planning to start a fanfiction LJ together… be on the lookout for that. It will contain immense amounts of goodies and drabbles that we may not post on FF, so… yeah. There's that.

Enough with the shameless plugging. Next chapter's prompt: It was time to go. (Bet you don't have to guess too hard what that's gonna be about…)


	5. It Was Time to Go

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee. -lesigh-

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"… Which is why it's so hard for me to leave."

Finn blinked once. Twice.

_Leave?_

This couldn't be right.

"What do you mean, 'leave?'" Quinn asked, her voice confused and defensive.

"I'm transferring. To Dalton Academy. Immediately."

Finn's eyes widened as he sat there, slightly slack-jawed. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be _right._

"My parents are using the money they saved up for their honeymoon… to pay for the tuition."

Finn felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. His mom and Burt were giving up their honeymoon – something they valued even more than their wedding – in order to take care of Kurt… and take him away from McKinley.

"Kurt… You can't leave…" Tina put in meekly.

Finn found himself rising to his feet, slowly walking towards his friend.

_Brother, _he reminded himself.

"What the hell, dude, how about you talk with me about this first?"

This was a brotherly thing to do, right? This was a big decision for Kurt to make by himself. And didn't Finn's opinion count for something?

Kurt met Finn's concerned gaze and lowered his voice to a whisper. "I'm sorry, Finn, but there's nothing to talk about." Kurt shook his head slightly, like he couldn't believe the words coming from his mouth. "Karofsky's coming back tomorrow… so that means I won't be."

"We can protect you," Sam claimed quickly.

"Seriously, we can, like, form a perimeter around you like the Secret Service," Puck put in.

Finn thought this was a great idea, and put in a lame, "Yeah…" in agreement.

"The only thing that can really protect me is what they have at Dalton: a zero tolerance no bullying policy." Kurt turned to look at Mr. Schuester. "It's enforced."

Finn watched helplessly as their teacher nodded gravely, apparently agreeing with Kurt's decision. _Way to back _us_ up, Mr. Schue._

At this point, Rachel chimed in. "Um, does this mean you're going to be competing against us at sectionals?"

Finn furrowed his brow but quickly ignored his girlfriend's brief lapse in tact. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mercedes get up from her seat and walk towards Kurt. She moved slowly, as if she moved too quickly she would frighten him away. "Kurt…" she called his name softly, much more upset than angry.

Finn watched as tears welled up in Kurt's eyes and he took a few steps back towards the door. They were losing him.

"I'm sorry… I have to go."

And then Kurt turned his back to the group and left the room. Possibly, for good.

Silence reigned in the room for few moments before Puck spoke first. "What the hell just happened?"

And then the floodgates opened and suddenly everyone was talking at once, over each other, trying to make sense of the shocking news that had just come over them. Only Finn and Mercedes stayed quiet.

Finn looked at Mercedes, who was standing by the piano stoically. Her hands were bunched into fists, and for a second he thought she might be so angry as to actually hit something. But when he looked at her face and saw a single tear trailing down her cheek, he realized how desperately she was trying to keep it together. He looked over his shoulder to Quinn and shot his eyes back to Mercedes, hoping she would get the hint to help her friend. She did; Quinn quickly stood and put an arm around Mercedes, sharing a sympathetic glace with her. Then it was Quinn's turn to tell Finn what to do. She looked at the Finn, then at the door, and then Finn again.

Finn nodded. He was a leader for this club. Everyone looked to him to set the bar. And now they were losing a critical member to their team. Their friend. His own _brother._

And that… well, it didn't sit well, to say the least.

Finn walked quickly to the door, but found himself jogging through the hallways and ignoring Mr. Schue's calls to come back to class. Glee club wasn't going to start anytime soon considering what had just happened, and maybe he could change Kurt's mind before things actually got underway.

He hoped he could, anyways. Kurt was one of the founders of New Directions, one of the six original members who helped make it what it was today. It wouldn't be the same without him.

It wouldn't be _right._

He spotted Kurt at his locker, piling books and papers on the floor and taking down his decorations, including the picture of that dark-haired Dalton kid. Finn briefly wondered if he was to blame to Kurt's sudden shift in attitude.

"Kurt!" Finn yelled, slowing his jog to a walk once again. Kurt looked up from the task at hand, his eyes red and puffy. He had been crying. "Kurt, hold on a second."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "What are you doing out of class?"

"I could be asking you the same thing."

"I don't go here anymore," Kurt said quietly, going back to packing his things.

"You know, you keep saying that, and I hear you, but I just have trouble believing it."

"Why are you making this so much more difficult than it has to be, Finn?" He was getting agitated, but Finn didn't particularly care. It wasn't that Kurt's feelings didn't matter. There were just so many people depending on Kurt, and didn't he realize that?

"Why am _I _making this difficult? Look who's talking!" Finn retorted. "You do realize how much everyone is counting on you, right?"

Kurt closed his eyes and furrowed his brow. Finn regretted his words. "I mean, I just…" Finn stumbled over his words, trying to be gentle with Kurt, but also effective. "I'm not trying to be a jerk. But… it's true. We're all counting on you. We need you." He shrugged. "It's not glee club without you, man."

Kurt smiled faintly, but still went about packing his things away. "While I appreciate the sentiment, and love the fact that I am already so well missed," his smile faded, "I… _can't _stay here."

Finn said his name softly, and Kurt's hands stilled for just a moment. "I made a _promise… _that I would protect you. And if you think for two seconds that I'm gonna go back on that—"

"I don't think that, Finn," Kurt interrupted. "In fact… it's partly _because _of that promise that I have to leave."

Okay, now Finn was really confused. "That doesn't make sense," he deadpanned.

Kurt folded his arms and leaned against the lockers. "I don't want all of you guys to give up your normal routines just to protect me. I don't want to walk down the hall with you and Sam and Puck walking with me like I'm royalty. I don't want… I don't _need _to draw any more attention to myself than I already do. And having you all act as my bodyguards will only make me a bigger target in the long run, anyways." He sighed. "They'll probably just take it as an invitation to a challenge."

"We can handle ourselves," Finn put in.

"I know you can, but I don't want to put you in a situation where you have to. I don't want you guys following me everywhere. To my car, to the cafeteria, to the bathroom…" he shuddered and shook his head. "It's just going to get weird."

Finn hadn't thought about this. "Well, maybe… but…"

Kurt turned to him. "Finn. I do not want to be protected like a delicate little flower."

Kurt didn't look like he was done voicing his thought, but Finn was too stricken by his last comment to let him finish. "You don't _want _us to protect you?" he repeated, feeling his anger rise slowly. "So this is a matter of _pride?"_

Kurt furrowed his brow and pushed himself off the lockers. "What if it is?" he asked defensively.

Finn threw his hands up in the air. "Unbelievable. We offer to help you the best way we know how, and you don't want it because you're too proud to take it? This is so typically you."

_"What?"_ Kurt asked, disbelievingly, as he folded his arms over his chest again.

"You always do this!" Finn pointed out, his voice rising slightly. "You never ask for help when you need it! You always think you can handle it yourself! And then, when someone finally comes around and tries to help you, you push them away!"

Finn expected Kurt to start yelling at him, but he was surprised when Kurt simply looked down at his feet, hanging his head is what appeared to be shame. Finn rubbed the back of his neck, feeling like a jerk for the second time in this conversation.

He'd feel better if Kurt had just yelled at him.

"I'm sorry," Kurt began quietly. "I know I'm not good at asking for help… and maybe if I had asked sooner, this could have been avoided. I just…" He raised his head to look into Finn's eyes. "I just can't stay here anymore. Yes, maybe part of it is pride, but is that so wrong? Shouldn't I be able to walk down the halls with my head held high, _proud _of who I am?"

"That's where we can help," Finn tried again.

"No, you can't," Kurt supplied, defeated. He paused, almost debating whether or not he should say what he was thinking out loud. "There are just some things you can't protect me from."

This last statement caught Finn's attention. "Kurt," he began, taking a step closer to him. "What do you mean by that?"

Kurt opened his mouth to respond, but quickly looked at his feet again. "I can't tell you."

Finn shook his head. "What else did Karofsky do to you? He already threatened your life, what else could he have…"

Finn felt his stomach sink with the thought that occupied his mind. Did Karofsky do something to physically hurt Kurt? And if he did, why couldn't Kurt tell anyone?

Finn started from his reverie as Kurt placed a hand on his arm. "Finn, it doesn't matter. All you need to know is that… it's gotten bad enough. And I've had enough." Tears welled up in his eyes. "I have tried… _so _hard… to just ignore it. I've tried standing up to him. Everything backfires." He wiped at his eyes furiously. "And… I am _so _tired… of crying all the time!" he ended, bitter laughter creeping into his voice.

Kurt sniffed, and Finn's heart broke for his brother. "I'm sorry, Finn, but… it's just time to leave. I have to do this. For me."

Finn stood there for a moment, realizing that no matter what he said or did, this was definitely going to happen. He shrugged. "Well. We're gonna miss you."

Tears welled up in Kurt's eyes again as he desperately tried to keep his calm. But when Finn leaned in to hug him, Kurt couldn't stop a few stray tears from rolling down his cheeks. They stayed like that for a short while, and Finn gave Kurt one last squeeze before letting him go. Kurt laughed and wiped the tears from his eyes once more, finally feeling them dry up (for now, anyways).

"Thanks for understanding," Kurt supplied. "Believe me, if I didn't have to go, I wouldn't."

Finn smirked. "Not even for that Dalton boy – the one you had a picture of in your locker?"

Kurt's eyes widened and he blushed furiously. "Finn Hudson!"

Thank goodness Rachel chose this moment to come over. She had been standing at the end of the hall for some time, Kurt had noticed, and was apparently was waiting for the right moment to interject. "Is everything okay?" she asked quietly.

Kurt nodded. "Yeah. Just… some brotherly chit-chat, I guess."

"We're all going to miss you, Kurt," she said, eerily similar to what her boyfriend had said only moments before. "And… I'm sorry for my seemingly insensitive comment back there. It was just… the only way I could process what you were telling us."

Kurt laughed as Finn wrapped an arm around his petite girlfriend. "Rachel Berry, if your mind had gone anywhere else, I would have been much more worried."

She smiled before looking back up at Finn. "Mr. Schue is waiting for us. We still have to get ready for sectionals, you know." She turned to Kurt. "I guess… we'll see you there, huh?"

Kurt shrugged. He hadn't exactly thought about joining the Warblers just yet, but maybe he would give Blaine a call to tell him the news and ask if he could get an audition. "Maybe. It may be too weird, competing against you guys."

Rachel placed her hands on her hips. "Kurt, you can't – you _won't _– let that amazing voice go to waste. Join the Warblers, knock 'em dead, and then we'll kick your butt at sectionals."

A smile found its way onto Kurt's lips. It was nice to have someone still treat him like nothing had changed, even if everything was about to be completely different. "We'll see…"

Rachel took Finn's hand, urging him to come with her. "We'll see you around Kurt."

Finn smiled at his brother. "See you after school?"

Kurt nodded. "I'll be home packing."

Finn and Kurt shared one last smile before he and Rachel turned his back to go back to class. And when they turned the corner and were completely out of sight, it took everything Kurt had to keep the sob that had been building in his chest from completely exploding. He knew this wasn't goodbye. He knew he would see all of his friends again. But there was something about it all that made it seem so permanent.

_This is good for you,_ Kurt told himself.

_Even if it doesn't feel _right…_ it will in time._

_

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_

**Author's Note**

Short author's note is short because Kat has to go to work. :/

I was worried about this chapter at first, because I felt like Finn was way off, but after having two people read it over before I posted it, I guess I've got a pretty good handle on Finn. At least, better than I thought.

I have grown to love writing Rachel. She dramatic and dynamic, which means you can get away with a lot and still keep her in character. I may try to develop a one-shot about her or something. She's just too much fun to write.

Caitlin and I are starting our LJ soon. Just gotta find the time to get it all set up.

And I really have to go. Thanks for reading, and please review! Next chapter: the last time.


	6. The Last Time

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. If I did, Kurt and Blaine would be having babies by now.

* * *

Blaine had no idea that Kurt was so good at Rock Band.

The younger boy was on bass – expert difficulty (on most songs, anyways) – and he was kicking every other Warbler's butt who went up against him. To say that Blaine was impressed was an understatement. He made a mental note to chastise Kurt after he was done with the current setlist – he had been holding out on him.

However, to be fair, it wasn't like Kurt had had any time to brag about his mad Rocks Band skills, let alone show them off. Kurt had only transferred to Dalton a couple weeks ago, and when he joined the Warblers there had been no time to relax and enjoy himself. Sectionals had been pressing on everyone's mind, and the Warblers had set out to win this year.

Kurt's first few weeks at Dalton had been challenging, to say the least. Not only was he adjusting to a completely new school, with new rules, new policies, and new traditions, but he was adjusting to a completely new glee club – the one place where, in the past, Kurt felt like he could express himself and truly just be _him._ Now at Dalton, Kurt was free to be himself… but seemingly only within certain parameters. He could relax, and be himself, but only as much as the Dalton uniform and reputation would allow him.

Blaine knew it was a struggle for him.

But he also knew that, within time, Kurt would find his happy medium. Eventually he'd be able to be himself without screaming for attention. Eventually he'd be able to balance the Dalton student and the former McKinley student that made him who he was today. He'd find his way. Eventually.

And Blaine would be there, every step of the way.

But only as a friend and mentor. And only if Kurt wanted him there.

Blaine watched, still slightly amazed, as Kurt tore into another bass riff. It was nice seeing Kurt let loose. Maybe a party like this was exactly what he needed.

Well, probably all of the Warblers needed it. Wes had been pushing everyone the last few weeks leading up to sectionals, and now that they were over and they knew for sure they were moving on to regionals, a celebration like this was exactly what everyone needed. One night to relax and enjoy themselves, to pat each other on the back for a job well done and be grateful that they made it this far.

And then Wes would put them to work on Monday.

Blaine smiled as the song began to grow to a climax, and Kurt started singing along with Wes on lead vocals, his voice jumping to the higher harmonies. The song ended, and soon everyone was cheering and clapping at another impressive performance.

David clapped Kurt on the shoulder. "Kurt, you're practically a rock star already!"

"Yeah, man," Wes added, "who knew you were so good?"

Kurt shrugged, and Blaine couldn't tell if he was blushing or if the blood in his cheeks was just left over from the adrenaline rush. "It's just… something I picked up, I guess."

"Well you might as well just stay up there, because our group still needs a bassist and we want a chance to play with you," a sophomore named Luke said as he took the lead guitar.

Kurt laughed (a sound that Blaine decided he could definitely get used to). "Look, I've played the last five sets, and I need a break." Luke opened his mouth to protest, but Kurt held up a finger. "I'll play a set with you later – promise. But I'm going to sit this next one out."

Kurt's eyes met Blaine's as he headed over to the couch where Blaine was sitting. Blaine scooted over to make room for Kurt between himself and the arm of the couch, and he patted the empty space inviting Kurt to take a seat. Kurt smiled demurely (_that _was unfair) and did just that.

"So, when were you planning to tell me about your epic Rock Band skills?" Blaine asked over the din as the music for the next playlist started.

Kurt smiled wide. "Oh, I'm sorry if I can't remember to tell you every little fact about myself." He rolled his eyes. "I mean, I think highly of myself, but I'm not Narcissus."

Blaine laughed. "I just never pegged you for much of a gamer."

"Oh, believe me, I'm not. I'm just good at Rock Band because…"

Blaine saw the smile leave Kurt's eyes as he looked down at his hands folded neatly in his lap. "You're good at Rock Band because…?" Blaine prompted.

A sigh escaped Kurt's lips. "I'm good at Rock Band because it was always a staple whenever New Directions got together. To celebrate, to hang out, anything, really. Sometimes we got together _just _to play Rock Band." A short, quiet laugh escaped his lips. "I remember… the first time we ever played?" He looked at Blaine. "I didn't know… _what _I was doing. I was terrible at everything, except for singing. But all of the girls wanted to be the diva, so my mic time was very limited. So I decided that night that I would find one instrument, focus on it, and become really good at it so I'd… so I'd get more time to play."

A chuckle snuck past Blaine's lips. "That… is kind of brilliant. I'm guessing you picked bass because it was the least popular?"

Kurt nodded, still smiling slightly. "Finn was always on drums… all of the guys were. And the lead guitar was so showy that it was second choice. Everyone always complained that bass was too easy, which is true… until you get into expert mode. _That's _when it gets fun."

"Of course you would go against the grain," Blaine quipped.

"Would you expect anything less of me?" Kurt asked with a smirk, eyebrow raised. "I am a little rusty though…"

Blaine couldn't keep the expression of shock off his face. He gestured to the screen. "_That _was rusty?"

Kurt shrugged. "The last time I played was right after we lost regionals last year." Blaine cocked a brow in confusion; Kurt hastened to explain. "Well, it wasn't _right _after we lost. Maybe a week or so. When we lost, we thought that glee club was over. The budget was so tight that we had to place at regionals or win… and we didn't do either. So, we thought it was over… but for some reason, we got another year."

Blaine didn't miss the way Kurt's face fell as he spoke, and he suddenly understood why leaving McKinley had been so hard on Kurt. Leaving the bullying wasn't a hard decision, but leaving New Directions… that was like leaving family.

Kurt smiled sadly. "Honestly… I don't think I'd be completely happy if we had beaten them today. A tie like this… it's almost too good to be true."

"Hey," Blaine began, getting Kurt's attention, "it's okay to be happy for them. It's not like you've been trying to sabotage us in order for them to win." He smiled. "I get it. They're family."

Kurt laughed lightly. "A large, convoluted, dysfunctional family, but yeah. I guess they are."

Blaine smiled and wrapped an arm around the back of the couch, moving slightly closer to Kurt. "Just enjoy tonight. We deserve to celebrate. That includes you."

Kurt blushed slightly and nodded. "I will."

And for a while, it seemed that Kurt really did enjoy himself. He didn't stay seated beside Blaine for long; he was certainly the social butterfly, talking with everyone about everything, and Blaine felt a little bit better for Kurt, that he seemed to be shining in a place that could easily stifle someone if it let him. But Kurt… Kurt was strong. He was persistent. And he would not let this place devour him.

And for just a moment, Blaine was jealous. Even in his fear, Kurt refused to be anything less than himself. But Blaine… well, when he had transferred, he was already only a shell of who he once had been. And Dalton was great, because it helped him regain his own sense of who he was… but at the same time, he felt like he lost something along the way.

And the craziest part of all of this was that Blaine never even felt like anything was missing from his life. That is, until Kurt walked into it.

Blaine smiled as he watched Kurt carry on a conversation with some other juniors in his class. He knew Kurt looked up to him, but truth be told, Blaine knew he could afford to learn a few things from _Kurt._

Blaine was shaken from his reverie as cheers and claps sounded loudly around him. The four guys currently playing Rock Band were in the middle of a setlist, and the song playing now was classic, recognizable from just the first few chords. By the time the words scrolled across the screen, the group didn't need a vocalist – everyone in the room was singing along loudly.

_"Just a small town girl / Livin' in a lonely world / She took the midnight train goin' anywhere…"_

Blaine laughed and sang along as well, his eyes scanning the room to see if Kurt was doing the same. But his smile faded quickly as he found the brunette standing off to the side, away from the classmates he was talking to just moments ago, staring at the screen with sad eyes. And in the blink of an eye, Kurt turned and quietly slipped out of the room, leaving a very confused Blaine in his midst.

He sat there for a moment, trying to decide if he should follow him or not. On the one hand, there was a chance that Kurt wanted to be left alone right now. If he didn't, then why did he leave the room?

But on the other hand, Kurt wasn't exactly known for taking pity. He didn't like to be coddled, but he did like to have someone to talk to. So Blaine got up from his place on the sofa and headed out the doors, hoping that this was the right thing to do.

He found Kurt a little ways down the corridor, leaning against the wall, arms folded and head down. Blaine walked slowly, putting his hands in his pockets and speaking softly.

"Not a fan of Journey?"

Kurt snapped his head up, and Blaine scolded himself inwardly at seeing the glassy expression in his eyes. Kurt forced a small smile. "Not so much anymore, I guess."

Blaine leaned against the wall beside him. "Anymore?"

Kurt sighed and turned his head away. "Last year… at regionals, we did a Journey medley. And we ended it with _Don't Stop Believin'._ It was the song we ended the year with… and it was the first song we sang together at the beginning of the year, when we were all just a bunch of rejects trying to make a name for ourselves." He laughed softly. "By the end of the year… we were still a bunch a rejects trying to make a name for ourselves. But at least…"

"At least what?"

"At least… we knew who we were… together." Kurt shook his head. "I'm so pathetic," he blurted out, angry with himself. "I can't be happy here, I can't be happy at McKinley, I'm just miserable everywhere. I'm selfish, and a coward, and—"

Blaine placed his hand over Kurt's mouth, effectively quieting the younger boy. "You have to stop thinking this way," Blaine said. "You're not selfish. You're not pathetic. And if you ever say that you're a coward again…" he trailed off, leaving the sentence unfinished, because he simply _didn't_ know what he woulddo is Kurt ever talked like that again.

"Kurt, you're just… adjusting," he said as he removed his hand from Kurt's mouth. "It's normal for everyone. It's okay to miss your friends."

"But _this much?"_

"Yes, _this much._ You said yourself that you guys were practically family. They helped make you into who you are today. _Of course _you're going to miss them. But they're not going _anywhere,_ and they are going to support you no matter what. And in the meantime, you'll get used to being here." He nudged Kurt with his shoulder. "Stop being so hard on yourself. You've only been here a few weeks; give it a few more."

Kurt furrowed his brow and bit his bottom lip. "What if… I never feel like I belong? What if I'm just stuck in this limbo forever?"

Blaine's jaw slackened as he realized that they were coming to the heart of the matter. Even though he put up a good front, he still felt alienated, left behind, and alone.

"Well then, you'll always have me."

And then Blaine did something that he had been itching to do all night. He reached out, almost tentatively, and grasped Kurt's hand in his own. Kurt's eyes widened as he looked down at their hands intertwined, and his grip on Blaine's tightened ever so slightly.

Blaine smiled as he looked at Kurt, whose lips had also curved into a small grin. Blaine shrugged. "You're not alone, okay? I'm the one who put the idea of you coming here in your mind in the first place. What kind of friend would I be if I just left you to the dogs?"

Kurt pressed his lips together in a tight smile. "Did you just refer to your fellow Dalton classmates as dogs?"

Blaine chuckled, glad to see Kurt's wit finally returning. "I believe I did."

"At least they're well dressed."

"Here, here."

The singing that had been carrying throughout the halls stopped, only to be replaced his cheering and clapping once more. Blaine looked toward the ruckus, and then turned back to Kurt. "Sounds like the setlist is over. Think you're ready to go back in there?"

"I think so," Kurt replied with a nod.

Blaine offered him one last reassuring smile and led him by the hand back down the hallway, noting how comfortable his and Kurt's hands fit together. But as they entered the room, they were forced to separate as a few of the guys pushed the Rock Band mic into Blaine's hands. He managed to grab David and mutter something about keeping Kurt company; he felt a little weird leaving Kurt after he just told he'd always be there for him.

The guys were nice enough to let Blaine have his first pick of songs for the setlist. He scrolled through about fifty songs (the guys started to complaining that he was taking too long) before he found it. It was a classic, one that everyone always enjoyed, and tonight, it was especially fitting. He picked his song, let the others have their picks, and soon the screen was loading.

The automated cheers from the game mixed with the noise in the room, and the lead guitar took over. Blaine looked at Kurt, who was flanked by both David and Wes, and offered a smile before beginning to sing.

_"Hey, don't write yourself off yet / It's only in your head you feel left out / Or looked down on…"_

Blaine couldn't bring himself to tear his eyes away from Kurt's, and he had a distinct feeling of déjà vu to the first time he met the boy. And as Kurt's smile grew (as did the blush on his cheeks), Blaine thought that he never wanted to see any other expression on Kurt's face.

_"Just try your best / Try everything you can / And don't you worry what they tell themselves / When you're away…"_

Kurt smiled shyly as Blaine walked over to him (as far as the mic would let him), both of them ignoring the cat calls and hollers from the other boys. Blaine dared a little hip shimmy, and Kurt blushed even more and looked down at his feet. But he couldn't keep from looking at Blaine for too long, and soon their eyes met again. Blaine hop shuffled back to the circle of instruments and let loose into the chorus.

_"It just takes some time / Little girl, you're in the middle / Of the ride / Everything, everything will be just fine / Everything, everything will be all right…"_

And as Blaine kept his eyes on Kurt, and watched Kurt's smile grow so wide that dimples showed, Blaine thought that _this _was the real Kurt. This was the Kurt that he wanted to see every day, that deserved to be happy.

And at that moment, Blaine decided that he would do whatever it took to make sure that ten minutes ago would ever be the last time he saw Kurt so sad. Because that Kurt didn't need to ever come back.

He would do whatever it took.

_… Within the parameters of being a friend and mentor, _he reminded himself.

* * *

**Author's Note**

... UGH. I hated this chapter. Well, until I actually got into it, anyways. I originally wrote this from Kurt's POV, got two pages into it, and then realized it just wasn't working. I think it was just because there's just too much going on in Kurt's head to write it all. Although, I miss the first part of the chapter, because it had more David and Wes, and I love those two.

Also, this chapter had a whole lot more Klaine than I was planning on. But it was just so much fun to write. And they are just adorable. And just so you know, Caitlin (aka Keitorin Asthore) totally asked for the Blainelicious hip shimmy. And she used that word - Blainelicious - and now it will become a regular word in our vernacular.

The song Blaine sings at the end is "The Middle" by Jimmy Eat World (which most of you probably already knew, but for those who didn't, now you know!). And in case you're wondering, the song that Kurt is playing at the beginning is "Peace of Mind" by Boston. I always encourage you to go look up the songs on YouTube, just because it helps set the mood for the chapter.

And I know it's been over a week since I updated... I hope that won't become a habit, because I really do try to keep to the whole one-a-week update schedule. I've just been bombarded with ideas lately - I'm starting to develop and idea that I had for Santana's backstory a long time ago, I'm thinking about writing a crack fic with my sister (aka I Spiked the Ice Cream), and I've been planning fics with Caitlin about two OCs we've developed, Lucy and Jo. Originally, those two were only going to show up in stories where they were absolutely needed, but they were received so well in _Awesome and Delicious, This Time at Dalton_ that we've each taken one of them under our wing and taken off with them. So, you might be seeing more Lucy and Jo, along with all the other story ideas I've had floating in my head for the last nine days...

I say all that to say, I WILL finish this story. I've got it all planned out, so there really is no excuse not to.

And finally, I want to dedicate this chapter to **aspiringtoeloquence**. She's been awesome, encouraging me to write, and the last time we chatted she mentioned how much she wanted to read the new chapter of this story, so I made myself buckle down and just write it already. So you can thank her for this one. :)

See you all next time! Reviews - compliments AND constructive criticism - are always appreciated! Next chapter: _The Next Time._


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